


you love 'em sick

by FreshBrains



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Anal Sex, Community: femslash_kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, F/F, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Mild Painplay, Object Insertion, Object Penetration, POV Lily Evans Potter, Teasing, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Wands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:27:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21659032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: It isn’t a reward for meanness, no, not exactly. Lily doesn’t know what it is. She just knows that when Bellatrix is most herself, most cruel and snide, Lily wants her even more. She’s always been drawn to the broken ones, and in this case, Bellatrix doesn’t even know she’s broken.
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 101
Collections: The Annual Femslash Kink Meme 2019





	you love 'em sick

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written a word of fic in over a year, and my triumphant return is almost 3,000 words of rare-pair Harry Potter filth with inappropriate use of a wand. Jess is back, bitches!
> 
> This is for the Annual Femslash Kink Meme 2019 prompt: Bellatrix Black/Lily Evans, object insertion.

Lily remembers exactly how it started, though she wishes she didn’t.

Bellatrix always liked to tease, to taunt. She was good at it. Lily somewhat admired her crude cleverness, but she didn’t like a bully, and Bellatrix often toed the line. When she saw Bellatrix stepping on the hem of a first-year’s cloak after Potions one day, trying to make him trip and fall, Lily felt herself move forward to stop her before she could think about the possible consequences.

“A little old to be picking on first years, don’t you think?” She puts her body between Bellatrix’s and the boy’s and he scurries off, glad to be rid of one of the most formidable girls at Hogwarts, leaving Lily standing much to close to an annoyed Bellatrix. She shuffles a step back, avoiding the concerned gazes of the portraits surrounding them. “Maybe a worthy opponent next time?”

“And who might that be, Little Flower? Little Lily, with her red braids and red cheeks? Should I have a go at you?” Bellatrix flips one of Lily’s pigtails with the blunt end of her wand, the motion confident and a little daring, like she didn’t care about the object’s potential power.

“You act like I wouldn’t drag you down the corridor by your ratty hair,” Lily snaps. The nicknames and wand tricks don’t bother her, but she’s not going to let Bellatrix Black put her down. Not today, not ever. She holds her head high, looking Bellatrix in her flinty, obsidian eyes. “Leave the younger ones alone. They don’t deserve you.”

“Oh, love, _no one_ deserves me,” Bellatrix says. She’s really a mess—robes askew, hair uncombed, loose papers flying out of her books. She’s a disaster, but she’s still one of the queens of the school with her old money and impeccable family line. And there’s something else about her, something that demands a reaction. Something that sets off warning bells deep in Lily’s stomach. “Do you think you do? I’d eat you whole, Lily-Girl.” She chucks Lily on the chin with the end of her wand, leaving a stinging scrape. “Don’t waste my time.”

It’s that tone. That’s what makes Lily’s gut clench, her heart race. Bellatrix carries herself like a mad royal, like no one could touch her in a thousand years, like everyone around her is merely dust to be wiped away. Lily has never felt like that, never could.

She can’t help it. It makes her _want_.

So next time, when Bellatrix goads her, calls her names, she responds by pulling her into a corner and kissing her hard, lips mashing, teeth clacking, hands shuffling inexpertly in robes. It isn’t a reward for meanness, no, not exactly. Lily doesn’t know what it is. She just knows that when Bellatrix is most herself, most cruel and snide, Lily wants her even more. She’s always been drawn to the broken ones, and in this case, Bellatrix doesn’t even know she’s broken.

Bellatrix just smiles at her, wicked and slow, teeth crooked and eyes dark, and handles Lily with sure hands, putting her where she wants her, doing as she pleases.

Weeks later, after sneaking between dorms, Lily finds herself on her back on Bellatrix’s bed, a silencing charm cloaking the black canopy, with Bellatrix looking down at her the same way a wolf stares at an injured doe.

“Are you going to just look,” Lily snaps, “or are you going to touch?”

Bellatrix pinches the soft skin behind Lily’s knee, making her squeal, and then laughs, pushing her thighs further apart. This is all a part of their games—the teasing, the pinching. Bellatrix likes pulling her hair, squeezing her arse, whispering naughty things in the hallway. She’s always keen to spank, to hold her hand over Lily’s mouth, scratch her long nails down Lily’s thighs and arms. It isn’t quite playful, isn’t quite cruel. It’s a heady mix Lily can’t identify but constantly craves.

“Lovely,” Bellatrix whispers, finally stroking the tips of her fingers and their ink-black polish through the coarse hair between Lily’s legs. “Like fire licking at your pretty thighs. So easy for me.” Her touch becomes heavier and she suddenly pulls at the short hair, in a way that feels like a snotty schoolboy tugging at his classmate’s pigtails. Lily whines a little, but it’s a good pain. “So sweet for me. You’re all dripping and pink.”

“Then _do_ something about it,” Lily whines, and anticipates the sharp slap to her thigh before it even lands.

“What, this isn’t good enough?” Bellatrix draws a hot, firm line up the slash of Lily’s cunt with her thumb, slick gathering at Lily’s clit. She grinds her thumb into the sensitive bud; it’s too much, too soon, Lily gasps and tries to squirm away from it, but Bellatrix pins her down with a strong arm across her belly, never slowing for a moment. Pleasure zips in overwhelming waves through Lily’s body, only heightened by her helplessness, and she starts to undulate into the pressure, orgasm coming on much too quickly for either girls’ liking.

Bellatrix makes a condescending clucking noise and pulls away from Lily, sitting back like a black cat on her haunches. Her fingers glisten down to the palm with Lily’s slick, and the sight makes Lily squeeze her eyes shut in humiliated arousal. “You used to be more fun than this, Little Lily. You used to make me work for it. Now you just spread your legs like a bitch in heat—”

Her words are cut off as Lily uses all her strength to roll her body up and into Bellatrix’s, pushing her down hard on the bed. They land with a mutual _oof_ , nearly falling off the narrow mattress, but Bellatrix’s surprised grin is worth it. Her dark hair fans into a tangle onto the red bedding, making her look tawdry and delicious, and Lily hate-hate- _hates_ it, but all she wants to do is roll over and let Bellatrix do anything she could ever want to her.

“There she is,” Bellatrix says, and wraps her arms around Lily’s waist, tugging their bodies together for a surprising kiss. They don’t kiss much—don’t have time for it, really, with all the furtive fucking and dirty games. But when they do, Lily loves the way Bellatrix kisses. She does it hard and wet and messy, so messy spit smears across Lily’s chin. “Now, because you’re such a good girl, I’ll let you choose tonight.”

Lily looks down at her in surprise. The best part of their games is that she doesn’t choose—Bellatrix just knows exactly how to push her buttons, be it sitting on her face and riding it to orgasm or spanking her until she comes from it. Lily’s made her choice—she can be with Bellatrix as is, or she can leave.

Bellatrix points to the little table next to her bed. It’s as messy and unorganized as the girl herself, strewn with parchments and letters from home, Howlers, Gobstones. “Choose something,” she says, voice low and husky, eyes never leaving Lily’s. “Choose something, and I’ll make you come with it.”

Lily bites her lip as she scans the table. The little Remembrall could be fun, the pressure smooth and cool against her clit, but it’s too unwieldy, especially with Lily being so wet. There’s a silver ring with a big black stone, probably some gaudy family heirloom. Lily thinks it would be more fun to feel that while Bellatrix spanked her, the metal cool against heated skin. There is, of course, Bellatrix’s own wand. It could be used effectively, but it’s too rigid, the curve all wrong for the natural slopes of a woman’s body, and Lily isn’t yet comfortable with magic during their games.

Then, from across the room, she spies something else on another Slytherin girl’s night table. She can’t tell who it is in the dark, but on her table lay a pair of glasses, a cup of water, and her wand. Arousal shoots like sparks down Lily’s belly at the sight of that wand. It’s thick and a little shorter than most, made of a dark wood, with a delicious bulb-shaped handle. It’s ridged from top to bottom, some larger than others, and Lily knows what she wants.

“That one,” she says, pointing the table. “That, or nothing at all.”

Bellatrix’s mouth opens a little in surprise, and maybe a little hesitation? It’s a tall order for a Slytherin girl. They take pride in things like wands—things made specifically for witches and wizards, things that could destroy worlds with a mere touch. Using it for such… _base_ needs is practically sacrilege.

But even if Bellatrix is a Slytherin girl, she’s never been a _good_ girl, and she smirks before sliding off the bed and through the canopy in perfect silence. When she returns, she’s cradling the wand in her long fingers, turning it over, inspecting it. “I won’t even need a charm to get you slick for this,” she murmurs, clicking her nails along the wood. “It’ll just slip right inside you.”

Lily’s breath catches, her clit pulses. The ribbed bulbs on the wand are even better up close—they vary in size, big to small, perfect for alternating types of pleasure. “Clean it first,” she says.

Bellatrix pauses, still inspecting the wand. “I don’t think so,” she says. “Spread. Open up for me.”

Lily groans and complies, because that’s what they do—Lily gives, Bellatrix takes, and it works out in the end for them both. Lily cants her hips so her cunt arches towards Bellatrix, hungry for her.

The blunt end of the handle is cool and ungiving against her wet cunt, and Bellatrix is right—it slips right in, and Lily feels like she’s sinking into a warm bath, its so good. She can’t come from this alone, needs more stimulation one her clit, more pressure, but the raw dirtiness of it has her melting into the hard length. “More,” she whines, and Bellatrix laughs and complies. The wand jolts a little as it slips in past the handle, and Lily gasps and clenches, the wand foreign but delicious inside her. She writhes, her body becoming used to the hard shape, the natural grain of the wand’s wood bumping pleasantly against her walls. With a practiced little tug and push, Bellatrix has the handle glancing against Lily’s G-spot, but only long enough for Lily to cry out before taking it away.

She starts to fuck Lily, steady and slow. The wand is short enough that the length won’t cause discomfort, and with each ridge, Lily experiences a new type of pleasure. Some is wide and overwhelming, like ocean waves crashing over her, some tingle like bells racing up her spine. She wonders for a second if Bellatrix is sneaking in some magic, just a little, but really, she’s just that good at it. She groans, animal and guttural, and pushes up into the feeling, until suddenly Bellatrix pulls it away.

“Look at this,” she sneers, and flicks at Lily’s swollen clit with the tip of the wand. “So eager for me. So eager to be fucked like a little whore, you could come right now.” She flicks again and again and Lily howls, wanting to come, _needing_ it, it’s so filthy.

But then Bellatrix slaps her hip and says, “Turn over. On your hands and knees. Show me your pretty arsehole.”

And Lily _does_. It would be unimaginable only weeks ago, doing these things, showing Bellatrix these parts of her. But from the first time Bellatrix slipped a slick finger into Lily’s arse, whispering dirty names into her ear, Lily knew she’d do it again and again.

Bellatrix looks her fill, makes Lily arch her back, wiggle like a presenting animal. She taps at her hole with the tip of the wand as if asking for entrance, and Lily breathes and relaxes into it, letting Bellatrix use the slick that dripped down between her cheeks to ease the way. This time, Bellatrix breaches her with the wand _tip_ , not the handle. Once more, it is hard and foreign, less giving than her cunt, but Lily _wants_ it, and she bears down on the hard tip, letting out a shocked gasp when it slips in to the first ridge.

“There you go, dirty girl,” Bellatrix coos, and pushes the wand in slowly. “Take more of it, sweet.” It feels like an eternity as Lily clenches and squirms around the length, each movement sending zaps of pleasure to her clit. She thrusts against nothing, needing _more_ , but loving what she has.

“I could make you do anything,” Bellatrix hisses, and moves the wand faster. The ridges tug at Lily’s rim, making a naughty, slick noise with each pass. “I could push this into your arse until only the handle shows and make you crawl out of her on all fours back to Gryffindor.” She pulls the wand all the way out, slowly, making Lily feel every inch. “Make you walk around the baths stark-naked, cunt and bum stuffed full. You’d let me do anything.” With her other hand, she gathers more slick from Lily’s cunt and coats with wand with it. “I’ll use my own wand, next time. So everyone will know who you belong to.” The tip of the wand presses against Lily’s furled entrance again, making the hot skin clench at it before opening softly to the intrusion. At the same time, Bellatrix worms her hand between Lily’s legs so she can cup her cunt, her fingertips pressing only barely against her throbbing clit.

“Do it,” Lily groans, so out of her mind with arousal that she’s panting with it, arching her back, squirming down onto the barest touch of Bellatrix’s hand. “All of it.”

And Bellatrix _laughs_ , the sound ringing and evil, so loud Lily worries it will break through the charm. “I could fuck you forever, Miss Lily,” she says, and pushes the wand into Lily’s arse, the ridges popping easily past, one after another. With her other hand, she rubs hard and rhythmic at Lily’s clit, index finger pressing into the swollen flesh, and Lily comes with a shuddering cry, body spasming back into the wand then forward onto Bellatrix’s hand. Her hips snap again and again, chasing that echo of pleasure from arse to cunt, until she collapses in a shaky heap into her stomach, no more left to give.

The world is fuzzy and sweet for a moment as Lily blows out slow breaths, heart racing, every muscle feeling lax and content. She barely feels it when Bellatrix removes the wand, does a quick cleaning charm, and leaves to return it to the Slytherin’s girl’s bedside table. Even _that_ makes Lily feel hotly embarrassed—Bellatrix will fuck Lily’s arse with a wand until she’s crying from pleasure, but she’d _never_ debase another Slytherin girl with the dirty aftermath.

“You can sleep here,” Bellatrix says, uncharacteristically soft. “If you’d like. I bet your legs aren’t working yet.” She tosses a cloth onto the bed for Lily to clean up with.

If Lily was another girl, one less smart, less headstrong, less _Gryffindor_ , she’d take her up on the offer, sneaking away in the morning before the other girls woke. But instead, she sighs and sits up, back and arse and thighs already twinging pleasantly. She still can choose, and she chooses to leave. It must mean _something_ , after all they’ve done.

“I have to get back,” she says, shrugging into her robe, tucking her hair over one shoulder in a move she hopes appears flippant. “I don’t want to cuddle with you, Bellatrix.”

Bellatrix just snorts and lounges back on her bed, uncaring of the sweaty sheets still tangled up at the foot. “You’ll be back, Red Rose. You always come back.”

As Lily tiptoes back to the Gryffindor dorms, she tries to tell herself Bellatrix is wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> The timeline is not canon since Bellatrix is canonically about nine years older than Lily, but I'd put them both in their last year for this fic. Title is from Gabbie Hanna's "Broken Girls."


End file.
